


Where We Collide

by imsorryimlate



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Human, Betrayal, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Manipulation, Marriage of Convenience, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, More Plot Than You'd Think, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Author Regrets Everything, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Warnings May Change, au where dark has feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-05 12:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12794334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsorryimlate/pseuds/imsorryimlate
Summary: Dark Iplier is a businessman with a vision, but to fulfil it he needs to collaborate with another company. However, the owner of said company, Mr. Septiceye, refuses to work with him. There's only one thing to do: bribe Mr. Septiceye by marrying his unruly son, Anti.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be honest, this isn't.... amazing. I just wanted something to write on the side of my university studies. Hopefully you will enjoy it though :)  
> Title inspired by [this lil poem](http://imsorryimlate.tumblr.com/post/166551119368/we-were-both-created-in-chaos-we-were-both-born) that immediately made me think of danti  
> Also this story involves a society where marriage is very important as well as a weird marriage system, so yeah... don't be too confused lmao

_“I prefer to choose my hell.”_  
_– Jean-Paul Sartre_

* * *

 

Dark came back to his office after a business lunch. He walked up to the front desk, where his secretary Malvina sat.

“Do I have any messages?” He asked.

“Mr. Septiceye declined your dinner invitation, sir,” she said carefully.

Dark took a deep breath to calm himself. Mr. Septiceye declined again? It was the fourth time Dark had tried to establish contact with the man, but been met by the cold shoulder.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“No, sir, that was all.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Dark retreated to his office, but walked past his desk to look out the high windows, studying the city stretching out beneath.

He sighed. For years, he’d been working – struggling – for his vision. He’d spun a plan, like a tapestry with thousands of threads. Finally, everything was falling into place. Everything, except one of the most vital pieces. The company Dark owned needed to cooperate with another, but the owner of the other company, Mr. Septiceye, refused to even meet with him. Dark had figured that Mr. Septiceye would come around eventually, but he’d tried for years and the old man still didn’t budge. Dark admired him, as he was a ruthless businessman much like Dark himself, but he also despised him for standing in his way. He wished he could just snap his fingers and have the problem _taken care of_ , but it wasn’t that easy. He needed Mr. Septiceye to work with him. He needed Mr. Septiceye’s company – with all its resources and contracts – in order to build his empire.

Mr. Septiceye believed in staying in his own lane. No reaching, no thriving. All his business deals were safe and familiar, and none of them involved Dark. Although Dark’s vision was private, a hidden project, his ambition was no secret. He was more or less a self-made man, and he hadn’t gotten this far by playing it safe.

After only a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. There was only one person who knocked without being announced by Malvina first; Ciar, Dark’s righthand man.

“Come in,” Dark said, and Ciar stepped into his office.

Ciar had had a business meeting over lunch too, but a very different one from Dark. Dark operated his business above ground and below it, but as he was the face of the company, he couldn’t have any eyewitnesses connected to him. Ciar was officially titled his assistant, but in reality he was much more than that; he was Dark’s eyes, ears, and face in the business that had to be kept in the shadows.

“How was your meeting with Nelly?” Dark asked, still looking over the city. “Did she have the shipment this time?”

“Yes; double up to compensate for the one she misplaced. But… she’s not reliable. I think she should be replaced,” Ciar said.

“Do you know anyone with her connections that could replace her?”

“No, sir, not yet,” Ciar said.

“Find a solution before you bring up a problem, Ciar,” Dark said. “How many times have we been over this?”

Dark turned around to face him. He was sitting in the chair in front of Dark’s desk.

“Sorry, sir. I’ll look into it right away,” he said, but he stayed put in the chair and made no move to leave.

“Was there something else?” Dark asked.

“Malvina told me Mr. Septiceye declined your invitation again,” Ciar said.

“Yes?”

“Perhaps you just need to demonstrate your good faith,” Ciar suggested.

 “Naturally,” Dark agreed, “but how? I’ve done everything I can. Unless you want me to lick his shoes.”

“Of course not, sir,” Ciar said. Then he cleared his throat. “I might have a suggestion.”

“Oh?” Was he desperate to show that he could bring Dark a solution now?

“Mr. Septiceye has a son; Anti. Unmarried,” Ciar told him, very pointedly.

"I hardly think Mr. Septiceye would appreciate it if I took his son from him," Dark said.

"You would most likely be taking him off his hands," Ciar said.

Dark gave him a look.

"He has received no offers," Ciar explained. "He's only twenty-three, but he's already becoming a burden on his family's reputation."

"No offers?"

"None."

"What's wrong with him?" Dark asked.

That there was something wrong with the man was unspoken. Even though not everyone married young, someone with Anti's position would have been courted immediately. Hell, Dark had received three offers in his first year of being eligible alone, and he didn't even come from a socialite family.

"He's troubled, unhinged, got a criminal record,” Ciar said.

“Any convictions?"

“None. Mr. Septiceye has always bailed him out. Couldn't stop them from putting him through a psychiatric evaluation though.” Ciar had picked up a tablet and was flicking through Anti Septiceye’s profile in the marriage registry. “He displays a range of antisocial behaviour, as well as violent tendencies. It's all there in the registry; it's enough to scare off any suitors, despite the family name."

"Let me see his profile," Dark said, holding out his hand. Ciar gave him the tablet.

Dark looked the page over. It was all basic information, like name and age. It listed job and education, his grades (they weren't... great), and, then, the criminal record (vandalism, assault and battery, threat to public servant...) as well as the medical one (at least he didn't have any venereal diseases). Hung out for everyone to see. Full disclosure in the face of a cold marriage system. Compared with Dark's own immaculate profile, Anti's was a mess.

Dark looked at the profile picture. An attractive young man with green hair and a cocky smile, but with dead eyes.

"Hm..."

Dark handed Ciar the tablet and turned towards the window again. Looked out over the city, his city. Visualised it as his own. He was close to having it all in his palm.

Anti would be a risk, if he decided to pursue him. Not the man himself – Dark knew how to deal with people like him – but the way he would stain Dark’s carefully cultivated image. Dark had never planned to marry for love; he had always saved it like an ace up his sleeve for when the opportunity presented itself. The opportunity was here, but was it worth it? People would whisper, silently judge him. As if Anti himself wasn’t bad enough, Dark’s reasons for marrying him would be obvious. If they got married, that was. Anti hadn’t made any offers either, which told Dark that he might not be that interested in finding a spouse at all.

Well. Dark could change that.

“I think it’s a good idea, Ciar, thank you,” he told Ciar. “The perfect combination of a favour, respect, and provocation. Mr. Septiceye will not be able to deny me if I marry his son.”

“Are you sure? Anti sounds like quite a handful, after all,” Ciar said.

“A boy in need of attention. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

When Dark came home that evening, he changed into more comfortable clothes and sat down at his desk. He started his computer and filled out the form he would send to Anti along with his offer. It was a kind of preliminary marriage contract, but not very in-depth. Only ten questions about what one expected from a marriage, such as children, shared finances, sexual activity, or cohabiting. Dark didn’t have a lot of demands, except that he didn’t want children and he expected his spouse to act their part in public. Considering the amount of networking events he had to attend, it would be good to have someone on his arm. A marriage of convenience, but a marriage nonetheless.

He’d been considering this course of action all day, turning it over in his head and weighing pros and cons. But the truth was that Mr. Septiceye’s company was vital to his plans, and this was the easiest way to get Mr. Septiceye to work with him. He’d tried everything else. Thus, it was with determination he made his offer to Anti.

***

The next morning, Dark saw that he had received an invitation to meet Anti, as was customary when an offer was made. That was quick. He wasn’t surprised though; he knew he was a catch.

“Malvina, you need to reschedule my meetings for this afternoon,” he told his secretary.

“How come?” Malvina asked.

“I have a more important meeting to attend,” Dark said. Unlike Ciar, Malvina wasn’t privy to more than necessary.

“Of course, sir,” Malvina said and picked up the phone to start calling around.

Dark entered his office and made a call himself, to Ciar.

_“Good morning, sir,”_ Ciar said.

“Good morning. I have news.”

_“Sounds ominous,”_ Ciar said, and Dark could hear his cheeky smile through the phone.

“Anti Septiceye has invited me to a tête-à-tête,” Dark said, not quite able to hide his smugness.

_“Already?”_ Ciar sounded surprised.

“It’s his first offer, I guess he’s eager.”

Dark had received many offers over the years, and custom had forced him to meet with almost all of them. He knew how these meetings worked, he could’ve done it in his sleep. Although he had always hosted, never been the offering party. Since he knew how desirable he was, he had never made an offer, since he knew it would most probably be accepted.

That afternoon, he stopped by a flower shop on his way to the Septiceye residence. Roses were too romantic, and yes, he was trying to dazzle Anti, to court him, but moving too fast would be counterproductive. Tulips would work better. They were a gentleman’s flowers, as they showed no expectations. Sure, Dark had expectations – he wanted to leave this meeting with a negotiated contract – but it was all about the impression he gave. He needed to please Anti and attract him, at least until they were married.

The Septiceye residence was large, showing off the vast amount of money the family possessed. It was no surprise that they had an employee – some sort of mix between a butler and a housekeeper – that showed Dark to a large dining room. In the middle of the room stood a long table, and at the head of the table sat Anti. He looked just like he had done in his profile picture in the registry, sans the smile. He looked… bored, almost.

“Hello,” Dark said, walking up to stand next to him.

Anti looked at him, scanned him from head to toe.

“I’m Dark Iplier,” he introduced himself.

“I figured,” Anti said shortly.

“I brought you these,” Dark said and presented the tulips.

Anti took them from him, looked at them with the same bored expression.

“Tulips. A bit ordinary, don’t you think?” Anti said.

“Roses would have been too romantic. We don’t know each other – yet,” Dark commented and gave Anti one of his winning smiles.

“Yeah, right. Because a beefcake with eyeliner is exactly who I want to marry,” Anti said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

… Anti was a brat. Dark wasn’t surprised. It was entirely too common for people like Anti to lash out when they in reality wanted attention. All attention was good for them, even negative attention. But negative attention didn’t come out of nowhere, hence the need to be a nuisance. Dark would prefer if Anti would accept his positive attention instead; it would be less hassle.

Dark cleared his throat.

“I see you are determined to make this meeting painful for me,” Dark said and took a seat in the chair to Anti’s right. “Why?”

“The meeting is a formality. I didn’t really have a choice,” Anti said, sounding like a spoiled kid.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you don’t have any other offers.”

“Let’s see what you have to offer then,” Anti said and opened the forms Dark had filled out on his tablet. “Finances: independently or with allowances. What, you scared I’m gonna spend your money?”

Dark didn’t answer, and Anti kept reading out the form.

“Children: no. Cohabiting: optional.” Anti flipped through the pictures Dark had attached of his home. It wasn’t quite as large a house as the Septiceye residence, but it was lavish enough. “Sexual activity: optional. Hmm… You should have included some dick pics,” Anti teased with a raised eyebrow.

He wasn’t taking this seriously, and Dark didn’t like that. Dark was the one with the most power here, when one compared their prospects side-by-side; he could pick and choose how he pleased with marriage proposals, while Anti had received none. Still, Anti acted even more carelessly than Dark could have done at the many meetings he’d sat through with suitors he had no interest in (he was too concerned with his reputation to be anything but a graceful host though). Did Anti’s father know that Dark had made an offer to his son? And if so, had he urged Anti to accept? Surely, he would have. If Dark had a child who were bringing such disgrace upon his name, he’d make sure they did as he told them. Although, perhaps that was why Anti was playing like this; his whole demeanour screamed rebellious brat, a phase he should have left years ago.

Anti put the tablet down.

“You only want to marry me to get close to my father,” he said.

Dark was surprised that he had caught on so quickly, but since he had, Dark saw no point in hiding his true motives.

“Yes.”

“So, what’s in it for me?” Anti asked.

“You’ve seen my offer.”

“Yes, and it’s as neutral as you can get. I don’t see any benefits for me in there.”

Anti leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Dark knew that his offer was neutral; although he could provide almost anything, he was careful not to promise too much. He had worked hard to get where he was, and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin his plans by sucking up his resources. He would have been more generous with a real lover – he had been in the past – but Anti knew just as well as he did that this was little more than business.

“Maybe not any tangible benefits, but social ones. Your social stance is low, despite your esteemed family, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Dark said.

“I don’t care,” Anti said quickly, in a way that told Dark that he most definitely did care.

“Besides,” Dark continued, as if Anti hadn’t said anything, “you are an adult. Don’t you think it’s time to move out of your parents’ house and stop living off your father’s money?”

“Are you trying to say I can’t be independent? I can move out whenever I want,” Anti hissed.

Dark was making him angry. This wasn’t part of the plan, exactly, but Anti was so irritating he couldn’t help but bite back.

“And pay the bills how? You don’t have a job or any work experience. You don’t even have an education. I’m not trying to offend you, Anti. All I’m saying is that the best option for you is marriage.”

“Marriage to you, of course. Any other arguments?”

Dark shrugged.

“Your father would be pleased.”

“Would he? Because as I understand it, he doesn’t like you very much. Otherwise he’d cooperate with you even if you didn’t marry his son,” Anti said with a smirk.

_He’d probably sell you to slavery if that would rid him of you_ , Dark thought, but he didn’t say anything. He’d already been rude by bringing up Anti’s shortcomings, which might’ve alienated the other man. He needed to be charming, a gentleman, but it was difficult when Anti wasn’t even being polite. It had been such a long time since he had personally dealt with people like that. In the business he was in, everyone at least played pretend.

“Your offer is weak. You are gonna have to bring me a better carrot,” Anti said. “You may leave.”

Dark was not happy with how the meeting had turned out. He’d expected to leave with Anti’s name metaphorically drying on the dotted line, but instead he’d been dismissed like a servant.

He wanted to go home and exercise to blow off some steam, but he had work to do so he returned to his office. Ciar met him at the elevator.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Ciar said and Dark gestured for him to follow him into his office.

“How did the meeting go?” Ciar asked as Dark closed the door behind them.

“Not as I expected,” Dark said and sat down behind his desk, starting his computer. “Anti is being difficult. I thought his lack of proposals would make him more careful about how he behaves, but he was demanding.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know.” It was unpleasant to admit it, even to Ciar who had been with him through many rises and falls. “He dared me to figure it out, but I don’t think he actually cares about what I offer him. He only wants to toy with me.”

“Wait, you mean… he didn’t accept?” Ciar sounded baffled.

“No,” Dark said. He checked the status of his proposal; at least it was still pending, not rejected. “Not yet.”

***

Dark tried to think of how to respond to Anti’s behaviour. He needed to goad him without begging or showing himself desperate, even though he was. Marrying Anti wasn’t the last resort, but it was by far the easiest, least messy direction to take this enterprise. He supposed he could make more of an effort to seduce him; he had thought a transparent approach would be the best once Anti revealed that he knew why Dark wanted to marry him, but if getting Anti on his back was the best way to get a ring on his finger, then so be it.

As Dark went through the rest of his day, the back of his mind was ticking, trying to manoeuvre the situation in the only way he wanted; so that he came out on top. Even as he lay in bed that night, he was thinking about it. It’s what he did every night as he waited for sleep to claim him; turning the puzzle pieces over in his mind, fitting them into place.

He was still considering the matter the next day as he got dressed and drank his morning coffee, but his thoughts were interrupted by a ping from his phone. It was a notification from the marriage registry.

_‘Anti Septiceye has accepted your proposal.’_

Dark considered the notification in silent confusion. Only yesterday Anti had literally told him that he wasn’t satisfied with the offers the proposal entailed. What had changed since then?

When he got to his office, he called Anti.

_“Hello?”_

“Anti, it’s me. Dark.”

The other man groaned.

_“Dude, it’s the middle of the night.”_

“… It’s eight in the morning.”

_“Whatever. What do you want?”_

“I wanted to thank you for accepting my proposal. I’m surprised; you didn’t seem convinced yesterday,” Dark said, the question underlying.

Anti was silent for a moment.

_“… I changed my mind,”_ he said eventually. _“Anything else?”_

“We should discuss the wedding–“

_“Ugh, just come over after work or something. I wanna go back to sleep. You woke me up.”_

“I apologise. I’ll come by later.”

Without even saying goodbye, Anti hung up. Dark took a deep breath. Anti was as unpleasant as he had been yesterday.

Dark was stuck in meetings for the rest of the day. Since he had rescheduled the ones he was supposed to have yesterday, they had been squeezed into every available hour today and tomorrow.

He had just finished the last meeting when Malvina’s voice sounded over the speaker.

“Mr. Septiceye is here to see you,” she said.

“Let him in,” Dark said and shuffled some papers around to make his desk look more presentable.

Mr. Septiceye walked into the office. He was ageing, but he was still straight-backed and brought an air of respect with him as he entered the room.

Dark stood up to shake his hand.

“Mr. Septiceye. Good to see you,” he said as they shook hands.

“Likewise.”

“Please, sit down,” Dark said and gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.

He waited until Mr. Septiceye had sat down before he did the same.

“Let’s speak bluntly, shall we?” Mr. Septiceye said.

“Of course.”

“You are marrying my son.”

“I hope you’re not displeased.”

“I’m surprised.”

“That I proposed, or that he accepted?” Dark asked.

“Both. Anti has always been difficult. I was beginning to worry,” Mr. Septiceye said. Then he quieted down before lifting his head, a proud man forced to humble himself. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Mr. Septiceye,” Dark said.

“Then let me give you what you want,” Mr. Septiceye said. “I’m under no illusions as to why you decided to marry Anti. So, what do you say, should we get down to business?”

Dark smiled. Finally.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the nice comments on the first chapter! :D I hope you will like chapter two as well. Just a little piece of information before we begin: the quotes in the beginning of every chapter are intended to be from Anti's perspective, to go with the rest of the fic being from Dark's perspective.  
> Also I have literally no friends in the fandom so if you want to say hi I'm @imsorryimlate on tumblr so well :)

_“If you think you can grasp me, think again.”  
– Adrienne Rich_

* * *

 

They decided to have a casual wedding, by simply going down to city hall and getting it officiated. Dark wouldn’t have minded a little more flourish, but Anti approached the wedding with the same bored attitude he had displayed at their first meeting.

The night before the wedding, Dark and Ciar went out for dinner to celebrate their plan working. Half-way through dinner, Dark cleared his throat. Ciar looked up.

“Ciar, would you be my witness tomorrow? Mr. and Mrs. Septiceye will be there, so you don’t have to, but I’d like it if you came,” Dark said.

“Of course,” Ciar said. “Dark, you’re my closest friend. Of course I will be there.”

“Good,” Dark said and smiled.

He’d already had a few glasses of wine with dinner, but when he came home he poured himself another and sauntered around his house while drinking it. This was the last night he was living alone, the last night his house was completely silent except for his own footsteps. Tomorrow Anti would move in, and who knew what fresh hell that would bring. Anti had already proved to have a little more bite than Dark had anticipated, paired with an annoying personality. Hopefully, it would be bearable to live with him. Perhaps he’d even cook every now and then, so that Dark didn’t have to. Dark sipped his wine. Worst case scenario, he’d divorce Anti the moment he had sealed the deal with Mr. Septiceye.

***

The next morning, Dark allowed himself to sleep in on this rare day off. He wasn’t getting married until noon, so he could laze under the sheets until well past nine. Then, he showered and put on his best suit. On his way to city hall, he bought crimson coloured roses for Anti. He had bought him a bouquet when they met up to plan the wedding and Anti had rolled his eyes, but Dark could tell he was secretly pleased.

When he arrived at city hall, Ciar met him. He wasn’t as dressed up as Dark, since he had to be back at the office after the ceremony.

“Good morning, sir,” he greeted Dark.

“Good morning. It’s good of you to be here,” Dark said.

“It’s an honour,” Ciar said and smiled. “Are you nervous?” He teased.

“If only,” Dark replied, the gestured toward the courtroom. “Let’s get this over with.”

The Septiceye family arrived a few minutes later. Dark was irritated but unsurprised to find that Anti was wearing ripped jeans and a band t-shirt. Not a suit, or at least a jacket, like Dark had instructed.

“Anti, how good to see you. These are for you,“ Dark said and gave him the roses.

“Really, again?” Anti said and looked long-suffering.

“Anti, don’t be rude,” Mr. Septiceye said.

Anti made a big show of rolling his eyes.

“Oh, thank you, master,” he drawled.

“Anti,” Mr. Septiceye said in a warning tone.

It was embarrassing for Mr. Septiceye, Dark could see that. Anti seemed to have a strained relationship with both of his parents, which was perfect for Dark. Anti suffered from their lack of attention, and their insistence on treating him like a child (even though he invited that treatment with his behaviour); with some deliberate recognition, Anti would soon be eating out of his hand.

“Let’s just get married, shall we?” He said to Anti and offered his arm.

Anti took it, and they walked towards the clerk.

“This is starting to look like a real wedding,” Anti muttered.

“Technically, it is a real wedding. We will be married at the end of it,” Dark said.

The ceremony was quick, the kiss was even quicker, two matching white gold bands on their fingers, and then they were married. At the doors stood a woman with a camera around her neck.

“Would you like a wedding photo?” She asked.

Dark looked at Anti’s casual clothes. That was hardly something he wanted to eternalise.

“No, thank y-,” he started, but Anti interrupted him.

“Yes, we will have one,” Anti said.

“Anti, you aren’t dressed for it,” Dark said.

“I know. You will hate it.” He was grinning.

Dark repressed a sigh and posed with Anti for the picture, which he of course had to pay for. While he filled out his – their – address for the picture to be sent to them, Anti left. Dark said goodbye to Anti’s parents and Ciar, then went to find his wayward husband. He found him in the car, fiddling with the aux-cord and tuning his awful music. Dark hadn’t even noticed Anti lifting his car keys.

Dark got into the car and turned off the radio.

“Do you have to be a bitch?” Anti asked.

“Do you have to play awful music?” Dark countered. Then he held out his hand. “Keys.”

Anti gave him the keys and he drove them home. The moving truck with Anti’s stuff was already waiting for them. Dark parked in the driveway.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said.

“Thanks,” Anti answered without enthusiasm and exited the car.

While the Anti’s stuff was brought inside, Dark showed him around. The kitchen, living room, a bathroom, and the dining room were downstairs. Upstairs were Dark’s bedroom, his office, his home gym, a second bathroom, and the guest room – which was now Anti’s room.

When Dark showed Anti his room, he looked surprised.

“We’re not gonna be sharing a room?”

“Disappointed?” Dark asked.

“Relieved. I don’t want your stinky ass up in my face all the time,” Anti scoffed.

Dark had to take a deep breath. He hated how dismissive Anti was of him, even if he knew it was only an act. Most people adored him, envied him, respected him, wanted to be him. But Anti acted like he was unaffected by him. Even worse; like he was bored by him. Dark knew it wasn’t true, but that didn’t change the fact that it got on his nerves.

“Now, there are some rules to this house. You are not allowed in my office at any time, and only allowed in my room should I invite you. Likewise, I will not enter your room without your permission. The rest of the house is yours to move about as you like. Some of the equipment in the gym is high-tech and I don’t want you breaking them, so tell me if you want to use them and I’ll show you how they work. Are we clear?”

“Wow, you’re an even bigger control freak than I thought,” Anti said.

“Are we clear?” Dark repeated.

“ _Yes_. Jesus, you’re like my dad.”

“I’ll let you get settled. Dinner is at seven,” Dark told Anti and left him to unpack.

Dark retreated to his office. It was still early in the afternoon. He’d taken the whole day off, but it had been unnecessary; the wedding had been over with quickly, and now there wasn’t really anything to do. He used the time to get ahead on some of his work.

As the evening approached, Dark went downstairs and made dinner. He made salmon and saffron risotto; easy but good, a bit of everyday luxury. He supposed he could have made something more special for them, seeing as it was their wedding day, but he had originally planned for them to go out to eat. When he had presented the idea to Anti in the car though, Anti had said he was tired and wanted time to set up his computer. For him, this was a day just like any other, and therefore Dark treated it as such too.

Dinner was stiff and quiet. They ate at the kitchen table instead of in the dining room to be closer for conversation, but all that could be heard was the clink of metal utensils against chinaware. Many times, Dark had sat at the table and thought about how nice it would be with some company, but at that moment he wished he was alone. And to think that this was a permanent state… Well, maybe they didn’t need to eat together every day.

Dark cleared his throat.

“Do you like the salmon?” He asked, trying to make nice. He had already lost his temper several times, which he shouldn’t have. Yes, Anti was annoying, but with some buttering up he would be less so.

“It’s okay,” Anti said. So much for that conversation starter.

“How is unpacking going?”

“Fine. Any other questions?”

Dark sighed.

“Listen, I know this might not be what you had in mind. Maybe you were planning on marrying for love, or not at all,” he said, “but we’re married now, so we should at least try to be nice and get to know each other.”

“Right,” Anti said, then continued eating. Dark patiently waited, and after a few minutes Anti spoke up. “Did you see how my parents just… couldn’t get rid of me quick enough? I’m only twenty-three. They were older when they got married. You’re twenty-eight and didn’t get married until today.”

“I think it has less to do with your age than with the fact that you hadn’t received any offers. Things like that affect your family’s social standing and sends a bad message,” Dark explained. “But you received an offer, and you did the right thing for your family by accepting it.”

“But you turning down all your offers, that doesn’t send a bad message?”

“No. Think of it as a currency; the more offers you have, the longer you can wait to get married.”

“A marriage is more valuable than rejected proposals,” Anti pointed out.

“A respectable marriage is, yes. Thankfully, we’ve been taken out of the registry so people can’t dig too deep into ours,” Dark said, then mentally cursed himself for inexplicitly being rude to Anti again.

“And how does your family feel about you marrying me?”

“My parents are dead, and I’ve never had any other family. I have no one to worry about but myself,” Dark said. “But you knew that already.”

There was no doubt in his mind that Anti had studied his profile, no matter how nonchalant he acted.

“Did you kill them?” Anti asked, flippantly, like he was asking about the weather.

Dark put his utensils down and fixed his eyes at Anti.

“No, I most certainly did not.”

Anti rubbed him all the wrong way. He was incredibly rude, and he knew it. It was almost like he enjoyed blurting out inappropriate things and gauge people’s reactions. Even worse; they barely knew each other, but Anti was already seeing more of him than he liked.

Anti must’ve sensed his discomfort, because his lips curled into a smug smile.

***

Dark slept uneasily that night. After living alone for years, he was unused to the sounds of another person in the house, and Anti had been up late. He wasn’t even particularly loud, but his mere presence was imposing.

When he arrived at the office, he was expecting the same professional tranquillity that always inhabited the office, but instead he was met by Malvina looking nervous and glancing between the elevators and his office door.

“What’s going on?” He asked her without saying hello.

“I’m sorry, sir. You have a visitor. I couldn’t keep him out,” she said.

There was only one person who would barge into his office and get away with it. With a sigh, he walked through the door and found Wilford draped in his chair, as he had expected.

He closed the door and walked up to his desk. On top of it rested a bouquet of pink peonies, tied together with a lace band.

“Wilford.”

Wilford looked at him and smiled around the lollipop he had in his mouth.

“Good morning, old friend.”

“What are you doing here?” Dark asked.

“I heard you got hitched! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have thrown you an awesome bachelor party,” Wilford said, pulling the heart-shaped lollipop out of his mouth and waving it at Dark.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Dark said. Except for Ciar, Wilford was his closest friend. Had he told him, he’d probably ended up in Vegas doing keg stands. “How did you even find out? We haven’t announced it yet.”

“Oh please. You’re Dark Iplier, he’s a Septiceye. People knew before you were born,” Wilford said.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, congratulations anyway,” Wilford said. Then he pointed at the chair that Dark’s visitors usually sat in. “Sit down! We haven’t seen each other in months, let’s catch up.”

Dark remained standing.

“You didn’t just come here to congratulate me, Will.”

“No, but that’s definitely one of the reasons,” Wilford said. Then he inspected his nails. “I have a project, and I want you to invest in it.”

Dark sighed. If Wilford wanted him to invest in something, he probably would. Not only because Wilford was his friend, but also because Wilford – despite his eccentricity – was clever as the devil and had enough information on Dark to have a hold on him. Even though Dark wasn’t terribly worried that Wilford would use it against him, the underlying threat was always there. That’s how Wilford got away with so much bullshit. And maybe because Dark was fond of him.

“Get out of my chair and present it to me, and we’ll see,” Dark said.

The project turned out to be a TV channel. Wilford had planned to produce a myriad of extravagant content, a mix beyond comparison; everything from gameshows to original news stories. It sounded like a mess.

“Look, Will… It’s unlikely to be successful. It’s all over the place, you need to find a niche,” Dark said once Wilford had finished.

“Oh, so you can have a spit in every fire, but I can’t?”

“I’m not in the entertainment business.”

“Exactly, so how would you know,” Wilford said in a check-mate manner. “I think this has the potential to be something people couldn’t even begin to imagine.”

“Well then… find some other investors. Serious investors. If you can convince others, I’ll invest too,” Dark said.

Wilford wasn’t pleased by his resistance, but accepted his terms. Dark followed him to the door.

“So,” Wilford said, hand resting on the door-handle, “I guess this means no more funny business for the two of us.” He cast a meaningful look at Dark’s left hand.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” Dark said. It wasn’t like Anti was putting out.

“Oh Dark, you rascal.” Wilford smirked around the lollipop stick between his lips. “I’m glad I’m not the one who’s married to you.”

“You’re not in a position to judge,” Dark pointed out.

“I’m not a cheater,” Wilford said.

“No, you’re just the one people cheat with.”

“Correct! And as a rule, I don’t hold that against them,” Wilford said with a wink.

“You just did.”

“Well, you haven’t cheated with me yet, so the rule doesn’t apply.”

“Goodbye, Wilford.”

When Wilford had left, Dark sat down at his desk and started working. It was difficult to focus when he was tired though, and his eyes kept drifting to the bouquet of peonies. Eventually he paged Malvina over the intercom.

_“Sir?”_

“Could you bring me a vase? Wilford brought me flowers.”

_“Right away, sir.”_

She wasn’t lying; she stepped through his office only three minutes later with a waterfilled vase.

“They are beautiful,” she said as she placed the flowers in the vase.

“Thank you.”

Malvina looked at him, and he could see the moment she spotted his wedding ring. Her eyes went from his ring to the bouquet and then back again.

“Oh, did you two get married?” She asked. She didn’t sound surprised, which was worrying. Wilford was great, but he was hardly husband material; he was wild and emotional and had an unflattering reputation and… Dark just realised that Anti had similar flaws (but without any of the virtues) as Wilford, which was even more worrying. He already knew Anti wasn’t husband material and that it would reflect badly on him, but paired with his association with Wilford, people might start drawing their own conclusions about Dark’s character.

“I did get married yesterday, yes, but not to Wilford. I married Anti Septiceye, Mr. Septiceye’s son,” Dark explained.

“Oh. Congratulations, sir.” She stepped back and clasped her hands behind her back. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“No, that would be all, Malvina. Thank you,” Dark said and returned to his work.

When he came home that evening, the first thing he saw was the awful wedding photo. Anti had framed it and put it on the chiffonier in the hall. He picked it up and walked into the kitchen, where he found Anti sitting on the counter, eating a sandwich.

“I don’t want this to be the first thing people see when they enter the house,” Dark said and put the picture down on the counter next to Anti.

“Fine,” Anti said with his mouth full. “I’ll put it somewhere else.”

_Up your ass_ , Dark wanted to say, but instead he said, “Thank you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated (they probably will be a few times before I reach the end of this fic), just so that you are aware. Also on a personal note, I have been having some trouble with my eyes and my doctor ordered me to use my computer less (a nightmare, I know), so if updates aren't as frequent as they have been, it's not because I'm forgetting the story or anything.

_“I thought of your body as one thinks of murder.”  
– Anne Sexton_

* * *

 

Life resumed much like it had been before, with the exception that Dark now had a husband. They kept different hours and thus didn’t spend more time together than they had to. Dark got used to having Anti around, and could sleep soundly again.

Even though they didn’t spend time together, Dark was getting to know his husband quite well during the next few weeks. He knew Anti was bored, because he found his bookshelf and DVD-collection in disarray. He knew Anti was disobedient, because his alarm system notified him that someone had tried to enter his office. He knew Anti liked junk food, because when it was his turn to fix dinner he always ordered in. He knew Anti was an asshole, because Anti had put their dreaded wedding photo in the centre of the dining room.

Dark also knew that Anti hated being alone; as soon as he came home, he noticed how Anti started looming. Not too obviously, of course, but if he watched the news on the television, Anti would be in the kitchen in the next room, and if he was in the kitchen Anti would be in the living room, etc. Just quietly following him around the house. Whenever Anti acted out – which he started doing more and more – Dark made sure to stay late at the office. As a result, Anti usually became even more insufferable once he came home, but he had to stay his ground and not get provoked by his behaviour.

There was a reason Dark didn’t give Anti the attention he so desperately craved; he had to make Anti work for it, to value it as something that could be lost. That way, he would think twice before asking for attention, and make him think about how he asked for it. If Dark gave him attention immediately, Anti would start thinking he had some sort of right to it.

But Anti, in his bored, lonely state, didn’t figure that out. Instead he did what Dark assumed he had done his entire life; made a nuisance of himself. It wasn’t something big, just small things that slowly drove Dark insane. Like putting his feet up on the coffee table, or, playing loud music he knew Dark hated, or littering the bathroom floor with laundry, or leaving all the cupboards open. Dark sighed and closed the cupboards and ignored Anti’s feet. Anti couldn’t know that it got to him. It was a tiring process, but a must.

The weekends were the worst, because Dark had the days off. He supposed he could have busied himself elsewhere, but he wasn’t about to let Anti drive him from his own house. As a result, he had to see more of Anti than he already did. He also had to start wearing pants, which he usually didn’t if he was spending the day at home. Anti didn’t show him the same consideration though; he walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning, wearing only underwear and a loose t-shirt that hung off his shoulder. Anti’s eyes scanned Dark, taking in his casual t-shirt and sweatpants.

“I was beginning to think you’d had the suit surgically attached,” Anti remarked before turning to the coffee machine.

Dark looked at Anti’s hairy legs and the round swell of his ass. It really was a shame he was such a brat, otherwise Dark could’ve enjoyed him.

When Anti sat down across from him at the kitchen table, Dark went back to the newspaper he’d been reading. After a few minutes, Anti started slurping his coffee. Loudly. Deliberately.

Dark looked at him over the top of his newspaper, and Anti smiled with faux innocence.

“We have an engagement next week. Keep your Friday free,” he told Anti. Might as well say something useful if Anti was forcing conversation.

“What is it?”

“Mayor Franklin is holding a dinner party.”

“Why are you invited?” Anti asked, with a very pointed ‘you’.

“I practically funded her entire election campaign,” Dark explained.

It had been a good move. If something were to happen – which it wouldn’t, Dark was far too careful for that – Mayor Franklin would pull a few strings, make people look the other way.

“The dress code is ‘casual fancy’,” Dark said.

“What the fuck is ‘casual fancy’? It contradicts itself,” Anti pointed out.

Dark sighed theatrically.

“Your parents really didn’t bring you out much, did they?”

Anti’s smile was gone.

“You know what? You can go to that dinner party alone,” he said.

“I could,” Dark agreed, “but you signed a contract that says you will accompany me.”

Anti grumpily returned to his coffee, and Dark hid his triumphant smile behind the newspaper.

***

Dark had to admit that he was nervous when Friday rolled around. Not because of the dinner party in itself, but because of Anti. It was the first time he was bringing Anti with him, and he had yet to see how Anti behaved in a social setting. Besides, there was a chance that Anti would misbehave purely to annoy Dark. But when Dark came home from work, he was pleased to find Anti in appropriate attire (no ripped jeans in sight, and he even wore a jacket over his black t-shirt).

“You’re ready. Good,” Dark said.

“Mhmm…” Anti replied without looking up from his phone.

“I’ll go change, and then we’re leaving.”

Dark changed into a similar outfit as Anti; black pants and black jacket, but with a maroon t-shirt underneath. And then they were off.

Mayor Franklin’s house was packed by the time they arrived. Dark offered Anti his arm, but Anti didn’t take it. Dark couldn’t help but put a hand on the small of his back, guiding him through the entrance hall. He half-expected a snide comment from Anti, but he said nothing. He was busy taking in their surroundings, the guests, the fancy decor. Had he missed this? Not only the extravagant parties, but the outside world? Dark had no idea if Anti left the house when he wasn’t at home, all he knew was that Anti always was there whenever he was.

Dark spent the time before dinner going around and introducing Anti to everyone he knew. Some of them had met Anti before, but most hadn’t (even though they seemed to know who he was). Dark’s nerves relaxed as Anti continued behaving like a normal person.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Dark asked when they had a moment to themselves.

“Twenty-four different types of cheese.” Anti nodded towards the small side table hosting a cheese platter. “Twenty-four, Dark. What kind of person needs that?”

“The guests. And Mayor Franklin, to keep up appearances of luxury,” Dark said.

“They’re all stupid,” Anti said.

For a moment, Dark was worried that Anti would become petulant, but at dinner Anti was chatty and nice to the people sitting with them. Dark couldn’t help but be annoyed by this. Not because Anti was being nice – that was definitely a good thing – but it bothered him that Anti could be this nice and polite, but still chose to be a pain in Dark’s ass every day.

Overall it was a good evening. Anti behaved, Dark got some networking done, and their public introduction as a couple was quiet. The little expedition to the outside world had apparently cheered Anti up, despite the cheeses; on the way home he was able to hold a casual conversation, and when they came home he didn’t immediately resort to become a pest. Dark hoped that further down the road, it could be like this all the time. A quiet truce.

***

Monday arrived, and with it came new work and responsibilities. Dark was stuck in a phone call with Wilford for almost an hour discussing how he could successfully pitch his ideas to possible investors. The ones he had approached so far had turned him down and Wilford, for some inconceivable reason, had decided it was because of the way he presented the ideas rather than the ideas themselves. As much as Wilford was a good friend that he respected, he wasn’t the kind of person Dark enjoyed working with; he was stubborn, unwilling to be guided. Thankfully, Dark was saved by a scheduled conference.

Practically every company Dark collaborated with had people present. Even Mr. Septiceye attended. Dark shook his hand, and he patted Dark’s shoulder. Dark knew that Mr. Septiceye still didn’t like him very much, but he was now his son-in-law, and so he played nice. If only Anti had inherited his father’s manners.

“I hope you and Anti want to come over for dinner soon,” Mr. Septiceye said.

“Of course,” Dark said around a fake smile. “Or perhaps you should come to us, and see our home.”

_Our home._ It sounded wrong. Felt wrong to say it. It was Dark’s home, and his only. Anti had just been tacked on, like a polypore.

“That would be lovely,” Mr. Septiceye said, and his smile was as fake as Dark’s.

The meeting proceeded as planned. Dark would usually work with his collaborators separately rather than meeting them all at the same time like this, but due to a few rule changes in some of the industries he owned, he needed to get them up to speed quickly. It was easier to inform them of the issue all at once rather than taking up two whole business days with back-to-back meetings.

As the meeting came to an end, Dark thanked everyone for attending. He stayed behind to talk to a few collaborators about other issues and scheduling meetings with them.

Dark went to the bathroom when everyone had left. Or so he thought. Usually he would use his own private bathroom by his office, but the conference room was in a completely different wing of the building – and a different floor as well – so for once he used the employees’ bathroom. The bad thing was that he couldn’t guarantee on being alone; as he was locked in a booth, he heard two set of footsteps enter the bathroom. He thought they were some random employees of his, but as they started talking it turned out to be the CEO of a company he worked with and her assistant. At first, they talked about what had been brought up during the conference, but just as Dark was about to exit the booth, they changed the subject.

“Did you hear about Mr. Iplier?” The assistant asked.

“What about him?” The CEO answered.

Dark stopped in his movements and listened more intently.

“He brought his husband with him to the Mayor’s dinner party last week.”

“Anti Septiceye? Ugh, that’s embarrassing,” the CEO said. “As if the marriage wasn’t bad enough, he has to go out of his way to flaunt it. Who does he think he’s fooling?”

“I know, right? I don’t know why they even bother to keep up appearances. Everyone already knows why he did it,” the assistant said.

“It’s shameful,” the CEO agreed. “And to think I used to respect him. I don’t know if I should continue working with him.”

“How so?”

“The man married a basket case, he clearly lacks good judgement. Even if I was desperate I wouldn’t touch Anti with a ten-foot pole.”

“Well, perhaps Mr. Iplier is a basket case too,” the assistant said. “I heard he’s been in therapy. _Off the grid_ therapy. It wasn’t in his profile in the registry.”

“Really? Where did you hear that?” The CEO sounded more curious than Dark liked.

“Around.”

The last thing he needed was people digging into his past. He wasn’t sure how that piece of information had gotten out; he’d been very careful with it.

“Interesting… What could be horrifying enough to go through the trouble of keeping it out of the system?” The CEO pondered.

“I can only imagine. But if I were you, I’d go through with finding someone else to work with.”

In silence, Dark listened as they went into booths of their own, then he listened as they left. He didn’t want to alert them of his presence. When they finally were gone he left in a hurry, feeling rage boil under his skin. It was burning, itching, driving him mad. He had been prepared that his reputation would take a hit when he married Anti, but to hear people openly speak that way about him was infuriating. Even worse, to know that information about his past, information he had kept private, was being dished out to people around him… it felt too close, like someone had stripped him naked against his will, like a sharp knife cutting through his clothes and brushing against his skin. He felt out of control, and he hated it. He hadn’t truly felt out of control in a long while, but it was the worst feeling he knew. It made him thoughtless and paranoid, which made it difficult to keep his carefully constructed mask in place. Being in control wasn’t an option, it was a necessity.

Dark went home. It was the best he could do right now, when he could feel the strain of his mask. It was easy, most days. But on the days that it wasn’t, he was an even greater threat to his reputation than any ill-advised marriage could ever be.

He didn’t look forward to seeing Anti when he stepped through the doors, and to his relief he didn’t. Anti wasn’t anywhere in the common areas of the house, probably holed up in his room. Dark relaxed, but only slightly. The rage within him was still clawing at his heart, making him want to hurt someone, make them bleed. It was for occasions like these that Dark had installed a home gym; he was too civilised to actually take out his bad moods on others, and through training he would relieve the pent-up energy within him.

Dark went to his room to change out of his suit. When he was about to unlock the door, he realised that it already was unlocked. He never left the door unlocked. He looked inside the room; Anti hadn’t even tried to hide that he’d been rooting around in there. Drawers were pulled out, the sheets were a tangled mess, the closet doors were open. The room looked dirty, in a way. Invaded. Sure, he had never been as careful with his bedroom as with his office, since it contained less sensitive material, but it was still his room and he preferred to keep full control of who entered it and who didn’t. Another instance where his control was slipping out of his hands, like grains of sand escaping between his fingers no matter how many handfuls he grabbed. One small grain, tipping the scales.

Fury rolled through his body in violent waves, causing a tense ache to roar at his temples. Dark stalked down the hallway towards Anti’s room. When he reached it, he wretched the door open and strode inside.

“Fuck,” Anti said and quickly picked up the cigarette he had dropped in his lap in surprise. He was sitting on his bed, smoking. “Thought you said you wouldn’t come in here without my permission.”

Anti put the cigarette back between his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Dark growled and yanked the cigarette out of Anti’s mouth, throwing it in the trash.

“Hey!”

Anti stood up, and they were close now, staring each other down. Dark’s anger wasn’t matched in Anti’s eyes though; he only saw Anti’s satisfaction at successfully getting a rise out of him.

“I told you not to go into my room,” Dark said.

“And I wish I hadn’t. God, you’re the most boring person in the world; I didn’t find anything,” Anti said. “But who knows, maybe all the goodies are in your office. I’ll get into that one soon enough.”

Dark grabbed Anti by the throat and pushed him up against the nearest wall. He was furious, but Anti... Anti was grinning. He enjoyed this. Of course he did. He got exactly what he wanted; Dark's full focus.

He squeezed Anti’s throat harder. Not enough to actually harm him, but enough to get his point across.

"What. Exactly. Do you think you're doing?" He asked.

He was pressed close to Anti, close enough to feel Anti's warm, strangled breath against his face. Also, close enough to feel Anti's hardening dick against his thigh.

Immediately, he let go and took a step back. It made Anti grin even wider, leaning back against the wall casually, like he was just loitering.

"Come on, Dark. You keep me locked up here all day like a kept boy. You might as well fuck me."

For a moment, Dark was speechless. He had known Anti wasn’t indifferent to him, but he hadn’t known that he was this interested.

Anti licked his lips and Dark felt a tug of want in his stomach, a corresponding desire to do exactly what he had suggested. Take his anger out on Anti, choke him and fuck him against that wall, with Anti’s sharp nails scratching down his back… But no. Anti looked so smug that Dark knew he couldn't lay a finger on him if he wanted to keep the upper hand. He took another step back.

"Not interested," he said in the most neutral voice he could muster, then turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

"You're lying!" Anti gleefully yelled after him.

And yes. Yes, he was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT!!!  
> This chapter contains the scene for which the "dubious consent" tag was intended. There will be a scene that involves dubcon/noncon elements. If that in any way bothers you or squicks you or triggers you, please be careful. Check out the end notes, where I have included a description of the scene, as well as how far you can read before it takes place.

_“This hole you put me in wasn’t deep enough and I’m climbing out right now; you’re running out of places to hide from me.”  
– My Chemical Romance_

* * *

 

There had been a subtle, but very noticeable, shift between Dark and Anti. And outsider wouldn’t have been able so tell, but it was clear for the two of them. Every word, every interaction was charged with tense electricity. But neither did anything. Dark didn’t because he still planned on making Anti roll over in his own way. Anti didn’t because he apparently wanted to draw it out of Dark.

The day after their altercation, Anti came down into the kitchen while Dark was cooking dinner.

“What are you making?” He asked, leaning against the counter.

“Wild boar with pumpkin purée and blushing wood mushroom,” Dark said.

“Why do you always make such complicated food?” Anti asked.

“Are you complaining?” Dark countered instead of informing Anti that the dish wasn’t actually that complicated.

“Not at all,” Anti said.

Dark looked up from the food he was preparing. Anti was biting his lip, and the hoodie he’d worn all day was suddenly unzipped, showing of the expanse of his pale chest. Dark allowed himself to steal a few fleeting glances, before returning to the food. Anti was trying to tempt him, which in itself was amusing, and paired with his simple, unrefined means of seduction, it was almost laughable. Did he think Dark was some kind of dog, ready to go into a rut at the faintest whiff of arousal?

Oh well. Two could play that game. The next time Dark had had a shower, he listened for Anti’s footsteps outside the bathroom door before exiting clad only in a towel tied around his hips, with waterdrops falling from his wet hair and sliding down his chest. He didn’t even know why he did it, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, hello naked,” Anti said, and his eyes roamed over Dark. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Dark envied the way Anti openly drank in the sight of him. If he wasn’t pretending to be unaffected by Anti, he could take him apart with one look. Just stare at him, until Anti lay down by his feet and begged him to touch him.

“Anti,” Dark said evenly, as if greeting him.

“Do you enjoy me watching you?” Anti asked.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Dark walked past him and headed for his room. Once the door was closed behind him, he let his unimpressed expression make room for a smirk. This little game they played was amusing, he had to admit that.

Of course Anti didn’t abandon his ways just because another layer had been added. His constant poking and provoking was how he’d broken through Dark’s composure in the first place, so he continued. He left the dishes out, even though they had a perfectly fine dishwasher, and Dark came home to a small swarm of banana flies. Anti’s dirty clothes were not only strewn in the bathroom, but all over the house. Surely he knew how obvious it was? Knowing the motives behind Anti’s bad behaviour made it easier to not lash out about it. Did Anti know that? The same old trick wouldn’t work. It was the unexpected, the things that caught him off guard, that got to Dark.

But perhaps Anti figured that out.

“Why did you kill your parents?” He asked one day over dinner, in the same casual way he’d brought up the subject on their wedding day.

It set Dark’s teeth on edge. His hands curled hard around his utensils, but he couldn’t show Anti how it affected him, so he relaxed and dismissed the question equally casually.

“Pass me the salad, will you?”

***

A lot had happened very quickly. Dark was used to steadfast routine, and he liked it that way (it made errors easy to spot and fix). He had trouble focusing on his work. He just wasn’t in the zone. When he worked with other people, he wondered what they thought of him, what they had heard about him, if they were judging him. When he was alone, his thoughts inevitably drifted to Anti. Before, he hadn’t given much thought to his husband, unless Anti was getting on his nerves. Now things were different. Anti had surprised him. He was different than Dark had expected. Anti had been immune to Dark’s artificial charm, but whenever his mask slipped ever so slightly, that’s when Anti was drawn to him. Dark hadn’t met many people like that, and he’d never expected Anti to be one of them. His mind kept replaying all their interactions, analysing them, or planning the next step he should take. It was like a game of chess, just less elegant.

“Are you alright?” Ciar asked when Dark proceeded to space out during one of their meetings.

“Hm?” Dark snapped out of it. “Oh, yes, I’m fine.”

“You seem distracted,” Ciar said carefully.

Dark sighed. Ciar was his closest companion in life. He oversaw a lot of Dark’s business, and Dark trusted him. He had also – over the years – become the one person Dark confided in, even if it very rarely happened that Dark shared his thoughts and feelings.

“I overheard some people talking about me the other day,” Dark said. “They were mocking me because of my marriage.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s not the worst,” Dark continued. “They also had information about me I don’t want spread around. I don’t know where they got it.”

“What information?” Ciar asked.

“About my past,” Dark told him. That’s all he needed to say for Ciar’s eyes to widen.

“How serious is this?”

“Not that serious. Not enough for us to worry, but certainly enough that I will make a few inquiries. I believe it might be a professional error; someone being careless with confidentiality” Dark explained.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Ciar said.

“I will, thank you.”

“Perhaps you should take the day off?” Ciar suggested after a beat of silence.

“I can’t just randomly take the day off.”

“Why not? It’s your company,” Ciar said.

And he was right. During the years of building his company, Dark had worked up a habit of not taking days off unless necessary, and now when he had the option to take as many days off as he wanted, he still didn’t.

“You’re right. Let’s just finish this up,” Dark said.

After finishing up the meeting, Dark left the office. He was too distracted, he might as well refocus the next day.

On his way home he couldn’t help but feel a bit excited about coming home to Anti. Every day contained some form or powerplay and that was something Dark always enjoyed, whether it be professional or domestic.

When he came home, he stepped right into one of Anti’s bouts of laundry warfare. A pair of underwear got stuck around his foot. Why Anti had decided to weaponize laundry of all things was beyond Dark. Maybe it was because Anti’s messiness was something he had complained about repeatedly.

Dark wandered around the house, trying to find Anti. He found him in the living room, watching trash tv.

“Pick up your clothes, Anti,” Dark said.

“No,” Anti answered easily.

“It’s like a pigsty in here.”

“It doesn’t bother me. If it bothers you, you can do it,” Anti said.

“I’m not cleaning up after you,” Dark said.

“Then get a maid or something,” Anti said with a shrug.

“We have a maid,” Dark pointed out. Anti must have noticed her coming over once a week to clean. “But it’s not her job to pick up our clothes.”

“Then get another maid whose job it is.”

God, it was like arguing with a three-year-old. Still, Dark couldn’t stop.

“You’re welcome to hire another one, with your own money,” he said.

“I don’t want to spend my money on things like that,” Anti said.

“Why? It’s not like you’re using your allowances for something else,” Dark pointed out.

“Maybe I’m saving up for a plane ticket to get away from you.”

For the first time since they had started talking, Anti looked away from the TV to smirk at Dark. Dark refrained from commenting on the fact that Anti seemed to do the exact opposite of getting away from him; he was trying to get in his pants.

“Get a job then. Might as well, since you only sit at home all day,” Dark said.

“You’re the one who said I couldn’t get any jobs,” Anti said, completely abandoning the TV to look at Dark.

“Not any respectable ones at least, since you don’t have any credentials.”

Slowly, Anti rose from the couch and sauntered up to Dark.

“I could get an unrespectable job. Put my legs in the air, maybe,” he said, staring into Dark eyes.

Dark hated that idea.

“That would solve two of your problems, after all,” Dark said slowly, supressing the anger rising within him. He hated how easily Anti got under his skin.

“Mmm, how would you like that? All your business partners fucking me? Imagine how they would look at you then.”

Dark hated him. Somehow, he just knew exactly what to put pressure on. But Dark knew what Anti wanted out of this; he wanted Dark to lose his temper again, wanted to break him.

Dark didn’t want to indulge him, not when he acted like this. He had already walked away once, so it wasn’t hard to do it again. It was the best course of action. Although he enjoyed their verbal sparring, Anti’s low blows were harder to brush off and counter. So Dark turned away from Anti and left the room.

It didn’t take more than a half second for Anti to follow him.

“What, you’re just gonna run again?” Anti asked.

Dark ignored him and kept walking, but Anti didn’t let it go that easily this time. He grabbed Dark’s shoulder, spun him around and punched him in the face. Dark was not expecting that. The momentum almost made him stumble backwards, but he regained his footing and tried to punch back. When Anti leaned aside and dodged his fist, he grabbed Anti by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall. Anti retaliated by kneeing him in the stomach. Fuck, Anti was a more experienced fighter than he was.

Dark decided to play dirty and grabbed Anti by the waist and then throwing him to the floor. And he could have walked away again, but no, Anti was getting what he asked for.

Dark kneeled down and punched Anti in the face repeatedly, and Anti tried to head-butt him, but he avoided it. Then Anti kicked at his legs until he too crashed down and they were both scuffling around on the floor, fighting like two teenagers in a schoolyard. Dark momentarily had the upper hand, until Anti bit down on his hand and made him pull back long enough for Anti to roll them over.

Anti was on top of him, panting, hair hanging in his eyes. A trickle of wine-red blood escaped his nose and dripped down his face, and warm drops landed on Dark’s face. He looked wild, and there was a hunger in his eyes, like the fighting had awakened something primal inside him. He held Dark’s wrists in an iron hold above his head, and when he leaned down Dark almost thought he was going to kiss him – prepared himself for the copper taste of Anti’s mouth – but he just pressed down on Dark’s wrists. An indicator that he wanted Dark to keep his hands like that, even when he let go. Dark kept his hands where they were, curious to see what Anti would do. They clearly weren’t fighting anymore.

Anti’s hands moved from his wrists, over his arms, down his chest, and came to a stop at his crotch. Anti started undoing his fly, and– that was it? He expected Dark to just lie back and let him have his way with him?

Dark used Anti’s distraction to shove him off him. But instead of running, he threw himself over Anti this time, restricting Anti’s movements with his entire body. Anti struggled, but Dark managed to trap him against the floor, with his arms behind his back in a painful twist.

“You really thought it would be that easy, just getting me on my back?” Dark tut-tutted. He leaned down, until Anti’s ear was close enough that he could bite it – he wanted to, almost did. “If you want me to fuck you, you have to ask nicely.”

Dark wondered if Anti was getting hard, pressed against the cold floor. Part of him wanted to reach out and feel for himself, but he knew that if this game was to continue, he couldn’t. And he enjoyed this game far more than he should.

When he eased off Anti and stood up, Anti stayed on the floor, in the same position. Dark didn’t stick around to see if he would get up; he left, satisfied with this round.

***

The next day, Dark’s face felt a bit tender, but no one could tell that he had been in a fight just by looking at him. Anti, on the other hand, had a big bruise blooming over the side of his face and eye. It looked awful. It suited him.

Dark was worried that Anti would go outside like that, and he’d get stamped as an abuser. He didn’t tell Anti not to go outside though, because that would almost guarantee that he would.

Anti didn’t antagonise him for the next few days, but he didn’t seem defeated in the slightest. It was more like he was biding his time, preparing for something big. Tension ran high, and Dark was excited.

***

One night, Dark was forced to realise that he had made a series of mistakes in the last couple of months. Getting used to having Anti around was one. Not locking his bedroom door anymore was another. Starting this game with Anti was definitely a mistake. But the most glaring mistake, in hindsight, was underestimating Anti from the start.

He woke up with his hands chained to the headboard of his bed, cold metal cuffs digging into his wrists. What had woken him up was a weight settling on his midsection, a weight that turned out to be a naked Anti straddling him.

“What are you doing?” Dark asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“Nice of you to finally join me,” Anti said.

Even through the darkness of the room, Dark could see his smirk. He was fingering at the hem of Dark’s underwear, and there was no doubt what he was going to do. That fucker. This was cheating. Not even that, it was more like Anti had knocked the pieces of their metaphorical chess game to the ground and was peeing all over the board.

Dark experimentally moved his legs, but found them equally secured to the bed.

“How does it feel now, huh?” Anti asked. “You’re so used to being in control, and now you’re all mine.”

“This is what you call ownership? It’s a rip-off with dirty tricks,” Dark said.

Anti laughed then, and slid Dark’s underwear off his hips.

“That’s the difference between the two of us, Dark; you spend your life manipulating people into giving you what you want while I… I take what I want.”

And he did; Anti grabbed Dark’s cock firmly and started pumping it with determination. Dark’s entire body jolted awake, and a gasp escaped his lips. It didn’t take long for him to get hard, arousal licking at his insides and mixing with the cold disappointment in his chest.

When Anti slowed down, he first became fearful of what he would do, but then Anti reached behind himself and pulled a butt plug out of his ass with a wet, delicious sound. He really had prepared for this.

Dark knew what would happen. Anti would stake his claim no matter what, so he might as well enjoy it.

Anti was a bit awkward at first, hands just resting on Dark’s stomach, as if he hadn’t planned this far. Then he clumsily guided Dark’s cock into his hole, biting his lip to muffle any sound. Dark didn’t bother and moaned loudly as he slid into velvety heat, hugging him tight. Fucking hell, it was good, just on the right side of too much. It had been way too long since he’d been with anyone, he needed this. It might not be under the most ideal circumstances, but he’d make do.

When Anti started moving, Dark tried to thrust up in time with him, but his tied limbs made every move strained and difficult. Eventually he gave in, and just let Anti do what he wanted.

Anti rocked back and forth, making obscene noises, enjoying himself. He was jerking at his own cock with one hand, and the other was holding on to Dark’s hip, nails digging deep into his flesh. For all the build-up, it didn’t last very long. Anti almost seemed rushed, and whole ordeal was more about making a point than getting pleasure. He came after only about ten minutes, spilling his semen over Dark’s chest and stomach for added humiliation.

After he had come down from his orgasm, he stilled. Dark bucked his hips up, indicating for him to continue. Dark at least wanted an orgasm out of this. But Anti just grinned and got off him.

“What are you doing?” Dark asked, echoing his first question.

Anti couldn’t just leave him like this, hard and wanting.

But that’s exactly what he did; Anti took the key to the handcuffs from the bedside table and put it between Dark’s lips.

“Better not drop that,” he whispered and kissed Dark’s forehead before exiting Dark’s room, leaving him all alone, tied up and covered in come. _That fucker_. Dark couldn’t even yell at him to come back, lest he’d drop the key.

It took Dark a long time and a lot of bending to get out of the handcuffs, and by then he’d gone limp and the come on his body had dried up, but the anger burning within him hadn’t calmed at all. The audacity… Anti had completely fucked him over. But what was worse was that Dark knew it was his own damn fault for expecting Anti to play by his rules.

After freeing his legs, Dark made his way to Anti’s room, but his door was locked. He was hiding now, as if he was afraid to face the consequences of his actions. Dark considered breaking the door down, he had the strength for it, but he knew, he just knew that was exactly what Anti wanted. Anti wanted his hurricane, his fury. It didn’t matter to him whether Dark fucked him or beat the shit out of him, he just wanted attention.

Well, Dark wasn’t going to give it to him. Anti broke the rules of their little game, and now he would pay for it. There was one thing that was bound to drive him mad; being ignored, as he had been his whole life by those he cared about the most. Anti wasn’t the only one who knew where to put pressure.

And with that thought, Dark went to the bathroom and cleaned up before going back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scene description: Anti breaks into Dark's room at night, handcuffs him to the bed and has sex with him. He then ejaculates onto Dark's chest/stomach before leaving him - still tied up, but with the key within reach. At no point does Dark consent to any of this. There are references to Dark finding the situation humiliating and not particularly desirable, however once the sex has started he quite enjoys it.
> 
> You can read until the sentence "One night, Dark was forced to realise that he had made a series of mistakes in the last couple of months."
> 
> I had a long discussion with a friend of mine about whether I should've used the "rape/non-con" tag instead of the "dubious consent" tag, but we agreed that context was more important than technicality in this case, especially since Dark is more bothered that Anti "breaks the rules of their game" than he is by the sex.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the really late update; school is fucking me up the ass, I'm trying my best. It will all come in time, my sweeties. Enjoy this chapter!

_“Did you cut your hands on me? Are my edges sharp?”  
– Sufjan Stevens_

* * *

 

The next day Dark was out the door before Anti was even awake. He had things to do, most notably to dig deeper than he or Ciar had done previous to his marriage. Anti had always been a pain in the ass, but what had happened last night was something different. It was beyond what Dark had expected. He hadn’t even counted on Anti being a risk to his personal safety. It wasn’t about the sex, it was about the fact that Anti very determinately had put aside reason to gain the upper hand. In this matter it had been harmless, only wounding Dark’s pride, but who knew what would happen if Anti decided that Dark was in his way?

Dark would have to get rid of him first. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it was the reality he faced. He didn’t think it would come to that, but last night had proved to him that Anti wasn’t as predictable as he had thought.

At the office, Dark started doing some research, calling in some favours to gain access to databases he shouldn’t be allowed and then giving one of his hackers the same access. What came back to him a few hours later was the files of police officers in Mr. Septiceye’s pocket, and records of dead bodies in alleyways that had been signed as closed cases despite being unsolved.

Dark sighed. At least now he knew why Mr. Septiceye had been so eager to get rid of Anti.

To make matters worse, Mr. and Mrs. Septiceye were coming over that night for dinner. Dark had almost forgotten about it in the middle of the chaos last night had caused. Thankfully, he had already arranged for the cleaner to come and didn’t need to call up Anti and convince him to do anything. It was especially good because otherwise it would’ve worked against his plan to ignore Anti as much as possible. Not that he could ignore Anti much tonight, right in front of his parents, but at least he could minimise their interactions to keeping up appearances. That’s what this marriage was supposed to be like from the beginning anyway.

When Dark came home, Anti sauntered down the stairs, looking damn pleased with himself. Dark ignored him and started cooking the food for that evening.

Just before the guests would arrive, Dark went upstairs and changed into some nicer clothes. Anti wasn’t dressed up, but it wasn’t Dark’s responsibility to present him this time. In fact, he was pretty sure there was nothing he could do to make Anti look better in his parents’ eyes.

The dinner went by without any bigger incidence. It happened almost automatically; Dark knew exactly how to nod and smile and show them around the house, to discuss art with Anti’s mother and praise the wine they had brought.

“We should have done this sooner,” Dark said after forcing a laugh at one of Mr. Septiceye’s stiff jokes.

“Oh, definitely. Why did it take us so long?” Mrs. Septiceye agreed.

“Well, Dark has been a bit… tied up,” Anti said with a smirk.

If Anti’s parents caught the double entendre they didn’t show it. Dark became hot with anger, with embarrassment. He couldn’t wait until this dinner was over so that he could lock himself in his office, as far away from Anti and his teasing remarks as possible.

***

Dark went about his life much the same way he had done previous to marrying Anti. He went to work, had business dinners, made himself dinner without calling Anti to the table, worked out… It didn’t take long for Anti to catch on.

At first it was like he assumed it was a mistake.

“Why didn’t you tell me dinner was ready?” he’d ask, or “you didn’t tell me you were gonna be gone tonight” or “are you even listening to me?”

With every new question, Anti’s frustration grew, and Dark basked in it. Now he’d feel the consequences of what he’d done. He wondered how far he could take this before Anti would do something foolish again. Just to be safe, he’d changed the lock on his bedroom door. But who knew, maybe Anti would stab him with a kitchen knife or something next time.

One day, when Dark was having coffee in the living room, Anti came storming into the room.

“Stop fucking ignoring me!” He growled.

Dark ignored him. Anti tore the coffee cup from Dark’s hands and threw it on the floor, coffee and shards of china flying everywhere. God, he really was a toddler in a grown man’s body.

Dark left the room in silence and retreated to his office, the one sanctuary he had left in this house.

***

Wilford called Dark and wanted to arrange a meeting. He had gathered the investors Dark had requested, he said. They decided to meet over dinner. God knew Dark could use a night out of this hell house.

“So, we’ll meet at the restaurant at seven?” Wilford asked.

“Yes, that would be good,” Dark said.

Right then, Anti started blaring his digital hardcore music loud enough for the walls to rattle. Dark sighed internally. Then, a thought came to him.

“On a second thought, perhaps you could come pick me up?” Dark asked Wilford.

“Sure thing, baby,” Wilford said, then gasped. “Wait, does this mean I get to meet your hubby?”

“Of course,” Dark said. “Just be your own charming self.”

“You are planning something, old boy; I can sense it.”

And so it happened that Wilford pulled up outside of the house just before half past six. Dark was still upstairs pretending to still get dressed when the doorbell rang; he wanted Anti to open the door.

Wilford and Anti’s voices floated up from downstairs as they greeted each other, and Dark slowly started descending the stairs to get a front row seat to this meeting. Wilford always made quite the impression.

“Who are you?” Anti asked bluntly, and Dark rolled his eyes. He really didn’t have any manners.

“I’m Wilford Warfstache, your husband’s best friend and confidante. Pleased to meet you,” Wilford replied.

“Right…”

Dark entered the hallway.

“Ah, Will, good to see you,” Dark said and smiled at Wilford before walking up to him and embracing him. He then turned towards Anti, his hand still on Wilford’s arm. “Anti, this is Wilford. He’s a good friend of mine.”

“ _Very_ good friend,” Wilford said with a smirk.

Dark flashed him a private smile and squeezed his arm slightly.

“We were… roommates in college,” Dark said.

“Charming,” Anti deadpanned.

“We’re going to dinner. I’ll see you later,” Dark said and put on his coat and left together with Wilford.

“You’re torturing him, the poor bastard,” Wilford commented on the way to the restaurant.

“Yes,” Dark said. “That was the first time in weeks I’ve spoken more than three words to him. He’s on the verge of losing it.”

“You are evil, Dark. You know that?” Wilford said, but he smiled like he found this quality endearing.

“He deserves it.”

“What did he do? Pee on the carpet?”

“He crossed a line,” Dark said.

“Valid but boring.”

At dinner, Dark was surprised to find that Wilford actually had managed to collect a decent number of investors. How many of them had been recruited by gunpoint, he didn’t need to know. This meant Dark had to be good on his promise and invest himself. He’d already had a preliminary contract drawn up regarding numbers and how free reins Wilford would have. They spent the dinner discussing and going over the contract, making changes here and there.

After dinner, they walked past a hotel on the way back to the car.

“You don’t fancy a roll in the hay?” Wilford asked, nodding towards the hotel.

Dark considered it. It had been quite a while since he’d had sex – real sex, not Anti’s stunt – and perhaps that was why he was so pent up, and easily provoked by Anti. The thought of Wilford fucking him into the mattress was very tempting. But then he thought of Anti, sitting at home alone and pathetic, probably seething at the perceived after-dinner activities, and he just couldn’t do it.

“Not tonight,” Dark said.

“Alright,” Wilford said with a shrug and drove him home instead.

Anti was still awake when he came home, brooding in front of the tv. He didn’t acknowledge Dark and Dark didn’t acknowledge him, but Dark saw that there was a certain tension to his jaw that hadn’t been there before.

***

If Anti hadn’t crossed the line and forced Dark to treat him the way he had for the past couple of weeks, the timing wouldn’t have been so terribly inconvenient. As it was now, they were both invited to another dinner party. Dark thought about cancelling, but considering the rumours that had spread lately about his past, he needed to do everything he could to restore his good image.

“Anti, there’s a dinner party next week. Our attendance is expected,” Dark told Anti.

“Casual fancy again?” Anti asked.

“No. I hope you have a suit,” Dark said.

He almost expected Anti to make some quip about spending Dark’s money to buy a new suit, but Anti just nodded. It was… boring.

On the night of the party, they both wore impeccable suits. Anti looked very handsome, and Dark momentarily wished he could compliment him and kiss his neck. But no. Their little game was still at large.

This party was even fancier than the last one. If Anti had agonised over 24 different kinds of cheese, he’d be appalled at the live orchestra, the tacky champagne fountain, and the detailed ice sculpture. He didn’t say anything though, just immediately drained his welcome drink and then went to the champagne fountain to refill. Dark followed him.

“Please, pace yourself. Remember, you represent the both of us,” he whispered.

“Whatever,” Anti said.

Thankfully they were interrupted by Ciar and his wife, Salome. Dark hugged Ciar and kissed Salome on the cheek, and then introduced Anti.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Salome said and squeezed Anti’s hand. He looked disgusted at the gesture.

“Salome is a curator at the art museum,” Dark said. “Perhaps she could show you the art here. You helped Mrs. Dubois pick out her painting, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Salome confirmed, then offered her hand to Anti. “Shall we?”

Anti gave Dark a look like he wanted to murder him, but gave Salome his arm and followed her. Good; he needed supervision, but Dark didn’t want to babysit him.

“Did you just steal my wife?” Ciar asked. “You know having her on my arm is the only thing that makes me look good.”

“We differ in that matter. It was necessary. Now, who is here tonight?” Dark said.

“The usual crowd. More culture than politics though. I hope you have brushed up on your French,” Ciar said.

“ _Bien sûr_.”

With Anti out of the way, Dark was free to go around and converse with everyone he knew and meet everyone he didn’t, to laugh at their jokes and pretend to care about their businesses and families and beach house renovations.

“Dark, _mon cher_ , did you hear that the Russian National Ballet Theatre is touring with _The Nutcracker_? They will be here in only a few months,” Mrs. Dubois said after they had greeted each other.

“I had no idea,” Dark said. “Thank you for telling me; I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world. I was very impressed by their production of _Swan Lake_.”

“Tchaikovsky is a gift,” Mrs. Dubois said, and Dark raised his glass to that statement.

Dark didn’t particularly care for ballet. In all honesty, it bored him, and the music was often too pompous. But as with all parts of his mask, this was necessary. He had to be one of them. Still, he couldn’t help but think of Anti calling them all stupid for their superfluous rituals, and what he had said about Dark living his life by their rules. There was some truth to it. Perhaps when Dark had gained enough power, he could stop jumping through their hoops like a show pony. But for now, Anti’s observations were annoyingly on point.

As on cue, Anti manifested in the room. Salome was trailing behind him, looking worried, and Dark soon understood why; Anti was clearly drunk.

“Are you fucking her too, hm?” Anti asked, pointing at Mrs. Dubois, who quickly withdrew her hand from where it had been resting on Dark’s arm.

“Anti…” Dark said in a warning tone. This was definitely not supposed to happen.

“Is there anyone here you haven’t fucked?” Anti glanced around the room.

Dark started making his way over to his out-of-control husband. Bad timing, as it were.

“This is very inappropriate. Let’s talk in private,” Dark said.

“No!” Anti practically yelled in his face. “I want a divorce.”

The scene had attracted the attention of all the guests. They were watching them with big, curious eyes. Salome was looking apologetic, and Ciar cleared his throat.

“Perhaps you should bring him home?” He suggested.

“Yes,” Dark agreed. “Mrs. Dubois, it’s been lovely. Excuse us.”

Dark herded Anti towards the door. He struggled, but he was drunk and Dark was furious, so it was not really a fair fight. Dark threw him into the backseat of his car.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?!” Dark hissed. “You just pulverised my reputation!”

“If you hadn’t fucked around behind my back I wouldn’t have–“

“I didn’t fuck around behind your back! Even if I had, it’s not like we’re married for real,” Dark said.

“Fuck you. You ignored me.”

Dark drove them home faster than he should have. The last thing he wanted to deal with that night was cops. Thankfully, no one stopped him. After exiting the car himself, he walked around to the back and pulled Anti out of the backseat. His steps weren’t quite as wobbly anymore, but his eyes were still glazed over.

Dark led him into the house and up the stairs. Perhaps Anti was expecting him to dispose of him in his own room, but no, he led Anti into the master bedroom. Anti looked him over suspiciously.

Dark placed him in the middle of the room, then took a step back.

“Well, go ahead,” Dark said.

“What?”

“Take your clothes off,” Dark clarified. Anti didn’t move. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Anti glared at him for a few moments, like he was about to protest. Then, he shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. His fingers worked quickly at the knot of his tie, the buttons of his white shirt, and they too slid off his body.

“Slower,” Dark said.

Anti obeyed and unbuttoned his pants in slow motion. His body acquired a rosy colour, like he was blushing all over. Eventually, he stood completely naked in front of Dark.

Dark considered what he should do to him. He could do something mean, but their game had since long lost its charm. After tonight, Dark didn’t want to play anymore.

“Now undress me,” he commanded.

Anti walked up to him and started doing the same to him, shedding Dark’s suit for him. His fingers lingered sometimes, just for a second, before moving on. When Dark was naked as well, Anti stood back, keeping his arms at his sides. Waiting for the next instruction.

“Get on the bed. Facedown.”

“Kinky.”

“Be quiet.”

Anti lay down on the bed, as he’d been told. Dark sat down behind him. He retrieved lube from his bedside drawer and poured it into Anti’s cleft, then massaged it into his hole with his thumb. Anti made an approving noise from deep within his chest.

Dark lay down on top of him, covering him completely. He wrapped his hand around Anti’s throat and applied just a little bit of pressure.

“Now ask me for it,” Dark said.

Anti was quiet for a long moment, then his desire seemed to get the better of him.

“… Please,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Good boy,” Dark said and kissed Anti’s temple.

He nudged the head of his cock into Anti’s hole, then slid in slowly with a groan.

He’d expected that when they finally exploded, this would be much faster, more frantic. But now that it was happening, it was different. It was half punishment, half surrender. He did it the way he wanted; slowly, with one hand around Anti’s throat and the other pulling his hair. He expected Anti to bark at him to go harder, faster, _rougher_ , but aside from moaning Anti was surprisingly quiet. Perhaps he was drunk still.

Dark pulled out and flipped Anti over onto his back, resuming his place between Anti’s legs. He wanted to see Anti’s face; his eyes glowed with bliss and torture at the same time. Anti grabbed Dark’s face and brought it together with his, kissing him desperately, with more tongue and teeth than desirable. They had never kissed like this before.

When it was all over and done with, they lay panting next to each other for several long minutes. Dark almost thought Anti would stay and sleep beside him, but eventually he got up and left Dark alone in his bedroom. Again. Dark refused to feel disappointed.

***

The next morning, the atmosphere in the house had shifted. The tension had been replaced by a tentative, awkward uncertainty. Where would they go from here?

Dark slept in for once. He felt more relaxed than he had in a long time, despite what had happened last night at the dinner party. That feeling would fade the minute he started his day, and the distant anger would resurface. Finally, he had to crawl out of bed. Thankfully he didn’t have to go to work, he didn’t think he could face it today.

He walked downstairs. The hallways were still lined with laundry, and every other surface was hosting dirty dishes or misplaced items. The whole house looked like the aftermath of a war. In a way, it had been a war.

Anti was in the kitchen, cutting up some food. It was probably the first time since they married that Anti was up before him.

“Good morning,” Dark said and Anti visibly jumped.

“Fuck! Asshole, you scared me,” Anti said.

He held up his hand; a red trickle of blood came from two of his fingers.

Dark grabbed his hand and led him to the sink. He washed the blood off, then dried his fingers and patched them up. Anti was so close to him, he could hear his breathing. Somehow, this felt more intimate than anything they had done last night.

“There,” Dark said when he was done, letting go of Anti’s hand but staying close to him.

“Thanks.”

Dark put his hand at Anti’s neck, then stroked down his back. He could see the hair on Anti’s arms standing up at the touch.

“Now, pick up your clothes, will you?” Dark said.

Anti didn’t say anything, but after they had eaten in silence, he started picking up the clothes from all around the house. Their little game, their war, was over.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry about the wait. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, and by that I mean procrastinate. Enjoy!

_“I want to be the one you didn’t see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed about love. I want to be the one who makes you feel reckless and out of control; the one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to.”  
– Lang Leav_

* * *

 

The thick tension that had inhabited the house for as long as Anti had was finally easing up. An awkwardness took its place; while their roles had been fairly clear before, neither of them knew where they stood now, how they would progress from here.

Dark was busy trying to repair his tattered reputation. Part of him was still angry with Anti for the public scene he had caused, but another part was partial to letting it go; Anti had become almost well-behaved. He acted like a grown up, finally. And when he wanted Dark’s attention – or affection – he reached out like a normal person. A hand on Dark’s arm, or leaning his head against Dark’s shoulder, or sitting in Dark’s lap instead of on the couch. It was all so much easier, and so much nicer. Only problem was that there was always a beat of hesitation, a stiffness and mechanical calculation to their interactions. There was only so far they would reach for each other. There was only so deeply they would kiss. They didn’t talk much. They fucked, but they never slept next to each other. The passion that their fights and games had contained had faded. It was boring, empty, unbearable.

Dark hated himself for missing Anti and his antagonising ways. But he did. Because now Anti was holding back everything, not just the parts of him that Dark disliked. The parts that Dark, despite himself, actually liked had been hidden away too.

No one seemed to notice his grumpiness though. Well, of course Ciar did, but he had the grace not to comment on it. Wilford, on the other hand, had no such grace when they had their next meeting; he took one look at Dark, then:

“I heard of the fiasco at Mrs. Dubois’ party. Is that why you’re upset?” He asked.

“Of course that’s why I’m upset,” Dark said and sat down heavily in his chair.

Wilford studied him silently for a moment.

“Hmm, no,” he then said.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Dark asked.

“There’s something else.”

“There really isn’t.”

“It’s about Anti, isn’t it?” Wilford continued, ignoring him. “ _You like him_. What did he do? Reject your advances?”

“No, he didn’t,” Dark said with a sigh.

“What’s the problem then? That was what you wanted, after all.”

Again Dark cursed Wilford’s insights. It was too easy to underestimate him, with the way he behaved and carried himself. But he was smart, and he knew Dark, and he had met Anti. The math wouldn’t have been difficult for him.

Dark didn’t know what to answer. He didn’t even know himself why he was grumpy. Because Anti had decided to not be a brat? That’s what he had wanted from the beginning.

“I like him,” Dark started, speaking bluntly.

“Yes, I am aware,” Wilford said with a barely suppressed chuckle.

“But that was never the plan,” Dark concluded. “He was just supposed to be an asset, a means to an end, not this. Not…”

“… someone important?” Wilford suggested.

“No. He’s not important. He’s just someone I want.” Dark laughed to himself. He _had_ Anti now, in every way that mattered. What was the problem?

He looked at Wilford.

“Well, you’re not my therapist,” Dark joked. “Let’s talk business instead, shall we?”

“You shouldn’t joke like that, considering the rumours about you,” Wilford said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Dark’s insides froze. He stared at Wilford. Surely not–?

“Was it you?” Dark asked.

“What are you talking about?” Wilford asked.

Dark rose from his chair and made it around the desk to where Wilford sat in a matter of seconds. His hand closed around Wilford’s throat.

“Was it you who leaked my records?” He asked and pressed Wilford into the chair.

“No!” Wilford gasped.

Dark studied his face, tried to determine if he was telling the truth. Then he let go.

Wilford coughed, his eyes watering.

“What in the fucking hell, Dark? Of course I didn’t leak that shit, you know I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know that,” Dark growled.

“You’re my best friend and I love you,” Wilford reminded him. “You really think I would do that to you?”

“Well, someone did. And only a handful of people knew about it, including you.”

Wilford glared at him, coughed some more, then wiped his tears away.

“I didn’t do it, and I don’t know who did. Happy?” He sighed. “Let’s get this damn meeting over with.”

***

The incident with Wilford left Dark rattled for the rest of the day. It wasn’t every day he threatened one of his best friends, and the betrayal in Wilford’s eyes had been unavoidable for the rest of the meeting.

When he came home, he found himself looking for excuses to pick a fight with Anti, but he restrained himself. If anyone would break their hard-won peace, it wouldn’t be him. So instead of pushing Anti away, he drew him closer, closer perhaps than he should. Maybe he kissed him too much. Maybe he shouldn’t have sucked purple-coloured bruises into his pale skin. Maybe Anti would catch on, maybe Anti would _see_ , would _know_ …

But Anti didn’t seem to know anything. He just seemed pleased. Rarely though, things were as they seemed.

Anti never stayed very long after they had sex, but this time he did, for a few minutes.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about me getting a job,” Anti said.

“Oh?” Dark inquired. This was a welcome change.

“I agree. I want something to do,” Anti said.

“Is there a job you had in mind?” Dark asked.

Anti was quiet for a second.

“Come on, Dark.”

“What?”

“I want you to give me a job,” Anti clarified.

Dark sighed. Of course Anti wanted to take the easy route.

“I don’t know, Anti… We have a certain standard at my company, and I’m afraid that you simply don’t have the right qualifications–”

“Don’t be stupid,” Anti interrupted. “You know what I mean.”

Dark didn’t, in fact, know what Anti meant. Unless… But no, that wasn’t possible. Or was it?

Anti sighed, clearly annoyed.

“I’m not talking about your company. I’m talking about your other business.”

It was possible. How? Had he broken into Dark’s office, without him even noticing?

“You know about that?” Dark asked carefully.

“Yes,” Anti said with a huff, returning briefly to his old ways. “Why do you think I married you?”

“How did you find out?”

Anti shrugged.

“I got an email about it, right after I had rejected your initial proposal. I thought it was from you at first, y’know, the promised carrot, but then you never brought it up again. Figured I’d wait it out, play the long game.”

Dark shifted and sat up at the edge of his bed, burying his head in his hands. Thoughts were racing in his head, too quickly for them to make sense to him. There was an answer to all of this in the middle of that swivelling tornado, but he couldn’t grasp it.

He got up and paced around the room. He could faintly hear Anti saying his name, but he didn’t react to it. Instead he slipped back into his clothes and threw a “I need some air” over his shoulder before leaving his bedroom, leaving Anti, leaving the house.

It was dark out. The street was illuminated by bulbous streetlamps, but the light didn’t reach far. Dark walked until the street ended, and then he made his way into the small bosket of trees where the neighbourhood’s dog owners walked their companions. Here, the streetlamps were far away, and the only light was the scattered stars in the sky. Dark sat down on a damp, half-rotted wooden bench.

Even here, it was hard to breathe. His head was thudding like it was about to explode from the raging confusion, anger, and hopeless heartbreak inside of him. The pieces of this puzzle were coming together. Only one person had brought the suggestion of marriage to him. Only one person had been privy to the fact that his first meeting with Anti had been unsatisfactory. That same person was one of few who knew about Dark’s underground business. That person also was the only one who had known about Dark’s past therapy, besides Wilford, the doctors, and Dark himself.

Ciar. Of course. Of course it was Ciar. It was clear now. It had all happened right under his nose, and he had trusted Ciar every step of the way. Ciar was not only his business partner, but a friend. Him, of all people, betraying him? Dark had been blind to the threat he posed, and this was the price. His life was crumbling around him like an ancient empire on the verge of falling into ruin.

Dark expected to be overtaken by wrath, and mentally prepared himself to calm down. But it never came. He just felt tired, tired to his very bones. Worn out like an old dishrag. Over and over again, the people he trusted – the people who were supposed to love him and keep him safe – betrayed him. Why, _why_ …

Dark sat on that bench for a long time, letting the truth sink into him. He knew that once he left this small, temporary sanctuary, he would have to move on, to take the steps to fix this. He would need to come up with a plan to get rid of Ciar and then move forward without him. It would be a logistical problem, as well as – embarrassingly – an emotional one. He would need to detach himself and rise above it. There was no time for sentiment and weakness.

With a sigh, Dark rose to his feet and started making his way home again. He half-expected Anti to be in his face when he walked through the door, wanting answers about his sudden exit, but there was no sign of him. Dark walked upstairs and peeked his head into his bedroom, where he had left Anti; the sheets of his bed were ruffled still, but Anti was gone. Dark knocked on Anti’s bedroom door, and heard a gruff “come in” from inside. Upon entering the room, Dark found Anti chilling on his bed with a lit cigarette between his lips. Again, he was ignoring the rules about smoking inside the house, but it didn’t matter.

Dark sat down beside him on the bed and held out his hand. Anti raised one of his eyebrows, suspicious, before shaking a cigarette out of the package. It landed in Dark’s palm, and he placed it in his mouth and let Anti light it for him.

They smoked in comfortable silence. Dark glanced at his husband. Why Ciar had insisted he’d marry Anti, Dark didn’t know. Perhaps because the chaos that he brought with him would be a distraction from what was really going on, with the cracks in his reputation as an added bonus. Or maybe Ciar had hoped that they would piss off each other enough for Anti to kill him, or for him to kill Anti and get a one-way ticket to prison.

Well, Ciar’s plan was about to backfire. Dark had Anti wrapped around his finger, like the trigger of a gun. He had a problem, and he had a weapon. As fate would have it, his bratty husband turned out to be useful; skilled in the art of carnage.

“I need you,” Dark said after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Anti looked surprised, then pleased (Dark saw how he held back from teasing him), then suspicious.

“What for?” He asked.

“Ciar is trying to undermine me,” Dark explained matter-of-factly. “I need you to kill him.”

“What?!”

“Don’t act so surprised, Anti. I know what kind of man you are, and what you have done. I know about the urge that drives you.”

Anti looked him over, eyes narrowed.

“Are you wearing a fucking wire?”

Sighing, Dark unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his bare chest.

“We can have this conversation naked if you want,” he said. “I still want what I want.”

“Why don’t you hire someone to do it?” Anti questioned.

“Too risky. I need to keep this operation tight. Besides, who knows how many hitmen are in Ciar’s pocket? I could be assassinated the second I place a hit on him.”

Anti laughed sardonically.

“Are you telling me I am the only one you have left to trust?” He asked gleefully, the last couple of weeks’ appeasing inclination gone in an instant.

Probably not the only one. He still had Wilford (maybe; Ciar had made him turn against Wilford), and Malvina could be brought into the fold. There were others, scattered old friends, but no one close to him. The truth was that when one climbed to the top using other people’s heads as a staircase, there wasn’t a lot of love left over.

Love. He kept coming back to it, again and again. Love meant nothing, had never meant nothing. It was a lie, a way to lull people into tranquillity, like a sleeping lamb before its throat was cut. It only held betrayal, hurt, and leverage.

And still, Anti wasn’t the only one he had left to trust, but rather… who he wanted to trust. Who he wanted at his side. He had started as a footnote in his life, but had become something central. Someone important. _Fuck_.

“Whatever. Interpret it that way if you want. So, will you do it?” Dark said.

“What’s in it for me?” Anti asked.

“The job you wanted. You’ll take over Ciar’s position; he basically runs my entire underground business.”

“Damn, Dark. I didn’t know you were that stupid.”

“Can you please shut up for just one second?” Dark felt his cheeks heating up. Yes, now in hindsight, it was very stupid. But he had trusted Ciar, trusted him with his very life. Stupid, as it were.

“Can’t really negotiate if I can’t speak,” Anti said with a shrug.

“Negotiate?” Dark was already tired from just hearing that word from Anti’s mouth.

“Yes. I’m not gonna be your subordinate. That’s not on the table here. Either I’m your equal, or I’m out.”

Dark couldn’t help but smile. Anti could have been a good businessman, had he been sculped into it. Well, it was not too late. He could at least grow in the shadows, he was savvy enough for it. Maybe even more so than Ciar; Anti seemed to have a natural disposition for crime.

“Fine,” he said and held out his hand. If Anti wanted to think they were equals, he’d let him.

Anti ignored his hand in favour of crawling into Dark’s lap.

“Let’s seal this deal like men,” he said with a smirk.


End file.
